


Apples

by babyrubysoho



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Light Bondage, M/M, Spooky, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:44:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyrubysoho/pseuds/babyrubysoho
Summary: City kid Jiyong reluctantly attempts to fit in with his new rural friends by attending a Halloween party on a remote farm, and there runs into the one person(?) he’d hoped never to meet face to face: Choi Seunghyun. Spooky sexy times ensue…





	Apples

**Author's Note:**

> I drew a Halloween Jiyong fanart, then whipped up this small oneshot to fit.  
I'd say it's an even mix of mildly creepy, smutty and fluffy :)

Jiyong surfaced from the water, heaved a desperate breath through his nose, and realized the world had gone quiet. He raised his head quickly and blinked the droplets from his eyes, but when he opened them…nothing. Frowning, he glanced around the barn and saw his new friends had disappeared. They’d been making a godawful racket just a minute ago, Youngbae especially whooping and cheering him on, but he’d been so intent on finally snagging an apple from the bobbing masses in the feed tub that he hadn’t noticed when the sound cut out. And now here he was, triumphant, a red Snow-White apple wedged between his teeth, and everyone had buggered off!

He scowled at the empty space where his classmates had been – that was just typical, wasn’t it. It was hardly as if he’d _wanted_ to move to this Podunk town with only the kids of farmers to befriend, but he’d been doing his best to fit in with the amiable class of cowherds who populated the little high school’s Senior year; so he’d willingly agreed to schlep out to Daesung’s parents’ farm and attend his Halloween party, and after only an hour of kids’ games and lame horror stories they’d up and left him? Was this a prank? he wondered crossly; or a type of hazing? What a bunch of bumpkins. If it wasn’t for the baler twine holding his hands behind his back – they’d insisted, apparently the rules of bobbing for apples were _strictly_ enforced in the countryside – Jiyong would be out of here and back at the house with his family, who were over-civilized enough that his dad had just _had_ to find his novelist muse in ‘the primal fount of nature’ and move his unfortunate kids from Seoul to the wilds of Haenam County. Bullshit, thought Jiyong, struggling in irritation with the rope. He’d taken such a huge bite of the damn apple that he couldn’t close his teeth all the way and the thing was firmly lodged in his mouth; it was hard to breathe, but more importantly he felt like a goddamn chump. Were his friends somewhere close by laughing at the city boy? A noise that seemed to come from just beyond the door of the isolated barn confirmed this idea – those inbred redneck assholes!

The sound came again, and Jiyong paused in his efforts to untie himself. It was so faint he couldn’t exactly tell what it was, only that it was not quite metallic and not quite organic. What were they _doing_ out there? Silence fell once more, and in it Jiyong felt a chill begin to travel up his bare legs all the way to the hem of his shorts; not from the breeze, there wasn’t one. The tingle continued along his spine and stopped at the nape of his neck, where it caused the fine hairs to stand on end, and Jiyong was abruptly alert – he didn’t know for what, only that the barn somehow seemed emptier than it had when he opened his eyes. When he looked around again, flicking his gaze quickly into each corner – it suddenly felt unwise to let his eyes linger – he noted that the old farm machinery stacked there had taken on unfamiliar and even unearthly shapes, and that the shadows that lay beneath them had grown black enough that something – _anything_ – could be hiding there.

Jiyong shook his head, apple still wedged in his mouth far enough for his jaw to ache: what was he, an elementary-schooler? This was how Daesung and the others were hoping he’d react, he was sure, banking on his ignorance of their agricultural surroundings to give him a fright. He sat up straighter – he refused to let those dumbasses get to him – and resolved to wait it out, comforted by a pleasant sensation of moral superiority. He was just getting to feeling smug when the odd little sound came again, louder this time. Jiyong glanced up from the apple tub in time to see the bare wall of the barn – formerly decorated with a couple of lame strings of bats and some hanging pumpkins – now emblazoned with the inky figure of…_something_. His eyes opened wide at its sheer size, a giant shadow puppet moving on the plaster; for an instant it was crisp and clear, but despite its clarity all he could recognize were two vast hands, although they were shaped wrong and – and they were reaching for _him_. He gasped around the apple, his body in that second snapping from chilly to red hot with a wash of pure, instinctual fear that came straight out of his childhood nightmares. Unable to breathe he turned his head: he didn’t want to, but if he didn’t find out what was making that shadow he –

As he turned the lights went out.

“_Mmph_!” Jiyong heard himself cry behind his makeshift gag; every muscle from his toes to his ears went rigid. He _ached_ with the terror of it, the feeling so unfamiliar he couldn’t even describe it to himself. The smart and rational side of him knew this was all part of the joke, that his friends had _made_ that damn silhouette out of cardboard and cut the lights – but that side was drowned by the physicality of his fear, by his shudders, as surely as he’d have drowned in that apple tub if he’d spent one second longer beneath the surface. With his breath short and hitching through his nostrils he ventured another glimpse of the wall; there was ambient light enough to see. And he saw nothing. He _heard_ nothing, either, that mysterious sound had stopped. The silence that had crept into the barn was thick, horrible, and he wanted nothing more than to be out of it – never mind his hands, he could hop off this bench, get the big door open somehow and run for the distant farmhouse. He shifted, ready to move.

_Plink_. The water in the steel apple tub let out a pleasant echo as it stirred, and Jiyong could’ve wished the silence back again because something had moved it – something that was not him. A second later he felt the bench wobble under him; there was a rustle of straw, and then something _settled itself behind him_. He could feel the sensation of weight, it was right there_, right there_ at his back. He could no longer move, held in place by the inertia of true oppressive panic. A soft whimper escaped him, muffled by the apple. Whatever was behind him waited.

“Mff?” managed Jiyong, praying to any god that it would be Youngbae or one of the others who answered. Jiyong wouldn’t even be mad, he’d acknowledge the effort that’d gone into their prank and respect them for it, if only… But the thing behind him wasn’t Youngbae. There was a pause, in which Jiyong felt his toes curl up and his eyes prick with tears at the knowledge of his own helplessness, at what was going to happen to him and what his friends might find when they returned.

“They went to get beer,” said a low voice behind him, in a rumble that was sure no high-school boy. Jiyong almost wet himself at the sound; the next second he wanted to laugh out loud because he _knew_ that voice, didn’t he! But a mere moment later he was uneasy again.

“_Smph-hmn_?” he said incredulously as he mentally put a face to the voice and realized it had only made him feel worse. Why the hell was _he_ here?

“Yeah, it’s me,” came the voice close to his ear. He didn’t have to say the name: there was no-one else in town who sounded like Choi Seunghyun. Not to say Jiyong knew him, but that wasn’t because Jiyong was a newcomer or a city kid – he didn’t think anyone really _knew _Seunghyun. He was at least a year or two older than the rest of them. Jiyong had presumed he was in college somewhere, and it must be local because he was often around: on the edge of a crowd at festivals, somewhere among the supporters at nearby sports games, hanging around with somebody’s cousin-twice-removed outside the rural bars and karaoke spots. He wasn’t a loner by any means, but that didn’t stop Jiyong finding him mysterious. Youngbae and Daesung and the others were hicks, they knew the genealogy of everyone who’d grown up around them; but all they had to say about Seunghyun was that he was the nephew or the grandkid of someone or other and they weren’t sure what he did – then the conversation would trail off.

The closest Jiyong had got to personally interacting with him was last Christmas, when his dad hired Seunghyun to shovel snow out of the driveway after Jiyong made too much of a fuss about doing it himself. That was the first time he’d been near enough to hear the man’s voice, and it’d put tingles through him the way it was doing now; only the _fear_ he was experiencing was new. All the same, Jiyong had decided back then that he didn’t really like Seunghyun, that voice, his good looks and his aloofness notwithstanding. Regardless of how mysterious (and therefore intriguing) he was, Jiyong wasn’t keen to know him any better. He knew it was irrational because Seunghyun really _was_ good-looking, reportedly smart, and quiet and polite and older – everything a teenage boy should look up to. Jiyong felt there ought to be something more specific fuelling the shivers he always got when Seunghyun glanced his way, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“They’ll be gone a while,” Seunghyun told him conversationally, still unseen. “They’ll have to pinch it or find someone to buy it for them; but they wanted to impress you.” Jiyong blinked: had he run into Daesung and the others, then? Had they told him Jiyong was in here all alone? And if not…how did Seunghyun know? Neither question made him feel better.

“Mmph!” he tried, trying to gesture without the use of his hands to the damn apple: he wanted to interrogate the man about what he was doing all the way out here, to somehow warn him off, but he couldn’t very well do so while he was gagged like this. A low chuckle, and when the voice spoke again Jiyong felt the movement of displaced air against his neck.

“You look like a roasting pig with that thing in your mouth,” said Seunghyun, sounding amused. Jiyong twitched at the intimate proximity of his voice: he must be very close, but he didn’t dare look round and see. There was no warmth behind him whatsoever, in spite of the mild night – as if Seunghyun had just come from someplace very cold. It made Jiyong almost as uneasy as the feeling of words breathed onto his skin. “Want it out?” continued the older man. Jiyong nodded emphatically. Seunghyun grasped the fruit in one long-fingered hand and worked it out of his mouth; Jiyong dragged in a huge gulp of air, his jaw stiff and painful.

“…Thanks,” he said breathlessly, still vibrating with anxiety but very relieved to have the use of his tongue back.

“Too bad,” drawled Seunghyun. “You looked tasty.” At that Jiyong turned at last, twisting his upper body to glare at the intruder. Seunghyun was so close they were almost nose to nose, and as Jiyong jerked back he saw the man was smiling. The moment he caught sight of that white grin it felt to Jiyong as if _every single one_ of his hairs was standing upright, like he was a dog with its hackles raised: a primal danger response. Then he remembered. That was it, _that_ was why Seunghyun gave him the shivers, that smile! Jiyong had seen it before, just once, when Seunghyun was walking down the snow-free drive, money in his pocket and shovel over his shoulder. Jiyong had passed him on his way in from school, and as he did so Seunghyun had looked very hard at him and smiled: his canine teeth were pointed like a wolf’s.

How had he forgotten _that_? thought Jiyong, appalled, as the bigger man’s grin widened. It came back to him with a shock: he’d had a dream about that face, hadn’t he, about those teeth! It’d scared him but it wasn’t precisely a nightmare, because…oh, God, ‘cos he’d woken up hard and got himself off thinking about…he didn’t even want to put into words what he’d fantasized about. After that he must’ve blocked it out and told himself that he simply didn’t like Seunghyun and had no interest in responding to his attempts to strike up a conversation – a sense of self-preservation, maybe, because everything about those teeth screamed _predator_.

Seunghyun was watching him as though he could see every mental image parading through Jiyong’s head; he looked mighty satisfied with the sight. As Jiyong stared back in horror Seunghyun raised the apple he had removed from the younger man’s mouth and brought it to his own: the two sharp teeth gleamed. Eyes never leaving Jiyong’s face, he bit down hard.

“Ahh!” Jiyong _felt_ the sharp crunch like a static shock that ran all the way through his body, coming to rest with a dangerous tingle between his legs. Seunghyun swallowed.

“A poor substitute,” he said dismissively, tossing the apple aside. And then: “I’ve wanted to get to know you for ages.”

“_Me_?” squeaked Jiyong, shuffling backwards awkwardly to try and quell the unwelcome stimulation in his shorts left over from that traumatic wet dream. Seunghyun’s large eyes gleamed.

“Uh-huh. Since you first showed up in town – from the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve been around a long time…” Giddily Jiyong wondered exactly how long, because there was a _word_ for what he thought Seunghyun might be, and – “And I’ve never seen anything like you.” The older man’s pupils dilated and Jiyong followed their movement as if hypnotized; Seunghyun leaned closer, to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and sniffed. “_Delicious_.” Jiyong felt his heart skip a beat.

“…Did you _make_ my friends go away?” he demanded shakily. Seunghyun inhaled again, a luxurious sound.

“Nope. They just knew I wanted to meet you, and you’d never talk to me. I didn’t think they’d leave you trussed up like a Christmas ham for me, but…oh, they know the score, Jiyong.” The way Seunghyun said his name was a sheer caress, and Jiyong’s breath shuddered in his throat at the sound. “Everybody round here does. And this night of all nights they tend to give me what I want…”

“What do you want?” Jiyong whispered, the sensations of that long-ago dream making him grow yet more rigid beneath the thin cloth of his underwear. He didn’t know what it was – the voice, the eyes? – but any will to make his hard-on go away was draining from him to be replaced with a frightening but oddly pleasant languor. Seunghyun’s cheek brushed his and he felt the touch of air as he exhaled against his throat. The man – or whatever he was – had no scent or heat of his own. Still, Jiyong swayed towards him helplessly.

“_Dinner_,” murmured Seunghyun, and without waiting even the space of a heartbeat – Jiyong supposed he had no heart to beat at all – his teeth pierced the flesh of Jiyong’s neck.

Jiyong moaned sharply as those two fiery slivers drew a line of pain and delight from his jugular vein straight to his groin. His hands clenched into fists, desperate to break free so he could…he didn’t know what he wanted to do, couldn’t _think _with Seunghyun’s lips at his throat, one large hand cradling his head while the other drew him close.

“…Fuck,” muttered Seunghyun after a long pull that made Jiyong delirious like his very soul was being drawn out of him between this gorgeous creature’s teeth. He removed his canines from Jiyong’s skin and raised his head to touch his brow against the smaller man’s temple; Jiyong winced, partly from the sting and partly at the feeling of loss Seunghyun’s withdrawal had engendered. “You made me _drunk_,” Seunghyun told him; when Jiyong turned he was grinning again, vulpine and at the same time sort of goofy; Jiyong saw him lick his lips clean of blood. His thumb stroked Jiyong’s cheek. “That’s how good you are!”

“Please…untie me.” Jiyong was practically vibrating now with a mixture of arousal and fear, both signals crossing and tangling and thoroughly screwing with his common sense. Seunghyun sighed but slid both hands to his wrists, and in a moment Jiyong felt them come free.

“All right, all right,” said the older man in resignation; his gaze was fixed longingly on Jiyong’s throat but his tone had turned mildly chagrined, as if he was quite aware he’d been behaving badly. He patted Jiyong’s head. “I’ll leave you be: I got what I wanted.”

“_I_ didn’t!” Jiyong announced, surprising himself with how much the spoiled rich kid he could sound at a moment like this – but Seunghyun had done this to him, so it was Seunghyun who’d have to take responsibility. With a deep breath for courage he leaned back into that preternatural body, no warmth but plenty of hard muscle, and tilted his face up demandingly. Seunghyun was staring at him with an old-fashioned look of astonishment. “You said you wanted to get to know me,” murmured Jiyong with as much pout as he could muster. “What did you plan to do, just stick it in me then fly off?”

“…You’re crazy.” Seunghyun said it slowly, with an equally slow and enraptured smile at his prey’s smart mouth.

“Thanks to you,” snapped Jiyong; he wanted to touch himself so badly! “So either release me from your damn spell…” Seunghyun snorted at him. “Or _give_ me some release!”

“Wordplay now?” said Seunghyun with a groan; but he set his hands to Jiyong’s waist, picked him up and turned him round as if he weighed nothing at all. Jiyong liked that sensation, though the power of the gesture rightly scared him, too. “You’re right.” Seunghyun took his head in both hands with another dopey grin. “How could I _not_ want to know you?” And he kissed him.

Though it was nothing like the adrenaline kick of his bite Jiyong found himself moaning ardently against Seunghyun’s mouth. He had never kissed another man, not even anything man-_shaped_, and the feeling of the strength in that body all reined in and curbed in order to be gentle with him was exciting. Seunghyun leaned over him and tipped his head back, tongue parting his lips, and then Jiyong tasted himself, bright and coppery. It sent a perilous thrill through him and he pressed back against the bigger man, wriggling closer in the hope that Seunghyun would notice his aching erection.

“_Ah_,” rumbled Seunghyun into his mouth, and Jiyong could feel his smile of satisfaction; when one of those strong hands left his face to slide between his legs he thought he might orgasm right there. The hand stopped short. “I could make you come without even touching you,” Seunghyun informed him in a whisper, nuzzling again at his neck. “I could play you like the breeze plays a harp.”

“I’m sensitive, okay…?!” Jiyong let his head fall back and luxuriated in the risky sensation that came from the pinpricks at the tip of Seunghyun’s teeth. “But touch me anyway…” He fumbled with the fly of his shorts, hoping to encourage the other man. Seunghyun laughed, then sat back and casually waved his hand: in a trice Jiyong’s clothes unfastened themselves and yanked themselves off, and ten seconds later there he was, rather pulled-about but naked as the day he was born. Seunghyun’s eyes finally left his neck and did a hungry inventory of his body; evidently he liked what he saw, because they lit up like amber traffic lights.

“Quite the skill, huh,” he said in a self-congratulatory tone, and pounced. Jiyong fell back into the straw, not giving a damn that he was completely bare in the middle of Daesung’s barn or that his traitorous friends might return at any minute – all he cared about was the weight of Seunghyun’s body above him, the hands gliding over his skin and Seunghyun’s lips upon his. The bigger man was hard too, very noticeably, and when Jiyong touched him he growled. It was a sound that ought to signal danger, but to Jiyong in his hypnotized or otherwise merely horny state it was enough to make him lightheaded. He hadn’t known things like Seunghyun could _get _hard – then again, he hadn’t known they could eat apples, either. He supposed he should find out at some point, but right now –

“…Oh my _God_,” he ground out as Seunghyun’s cool hand curled around his cock. Apparently Seunghyun didn’t mind the G-word either, ‘cos he simply gave Jiyong a rapacious smile and wound the smaller man’s legs around his hips. Jiyong clung to him, wondered dazedly for a minute how far Seunghyun would want to go, and knew that however far it was he would allow it – he thought he’d let this creature do _anything_ to him tonight. But Seunghyun’s supernaturally skilled fingers just kept pumping him, his left hand stimulating every other part of Jiyong’s body that might bring him pleasure, and soon he was too far gone to worry about anything else.

“You ready, my darling?” asked Seunghyun with a brief nip to the shell of his ear; for a second his voice sounded different, as if a much older accent or an entirely different language was working its way onto his tongue, as if he was almost as undone as Jiyong. The younger man nodded frantically, heedless of the prickling straw beneath him or the terrifying nature of the person above him – the only thought he could form was that he needed Seunghyun’s touch above all else. Seunghyun sped up, weight pinning him down, and at the moment Jiyong’s cock began to throb with the approaching climax he bent and sank his teeth once more into Jiyong’s neck.

Jiyong saw stars, quite literally, as though the roof of the barn had lifted off to lay them bare beneath the clear night sky. Dimly he could hear himself crying out and feel hard flesh beneath his fingertips as he clung to Seunghyun convulsively, yet there was nothing but the dizziness of pain and ecstasy and the spinning-out as his blood left his body to enter Seunghyun’s. It seemed to go on forever and he wondered if this was the end of him, if this was _it_. Then he was floating somewhere in a magnificent afterglow, somewhere as dark and safe as arms enclosing him under the covers.

“…Jiyong,” came Seunghyun’s voice an untold amount of time later. Seunghyun was laughing, he could hear it; dozily he blinked his eyes and let his lashes flutter open. He was lying on his back with Seunghyun’s black coat draped over him like a blanket, his head in the older man’s lap. “That good, was it?” inquired Seunghyun warmly, once Jiyong had made eye contact. Jiyong could only nod mutely. “Wanna date me, then?” Seunghyun continued eagerly. “I can promise you even better. And I’ll be less creepy, I’ll be such a gentleman! Whatever you want – just to taste you again.”

“Don’t you need me to…?” asked Jiyong feebly, tilting his head towards the place where Seunghyun’s impressive hard-on had been; he felt absolutely exhausted but he still wanted to _touch_ it.

“Took care of it already.” Seunghyun smirked. “You were a bit wiped out.”

“…I can hardly move,” agreed Jiyong. He gave the bigger man a look, unsure whether to be worried or pissed.

“You lost some blood,” said Seunghyun matter-of-factly. His smile softened. “The most exquisite blood I ever had. You’ll need to rest a bit.” He cast around the floor of the barn, where the tub of apples had been upturned in their enthusiasm. “Here,” he said, and held one out.

“No thank you,” Jiyong told him with a prim sniff. He’d had enough of those to be going on with. “I’m never gonna eat another apple without remembering you scaring the living shit out of me!” Seunghyun looked slightly remorseful. They were quiet for a bit, Jiyong bone-weary and Seunghyun thoughtful. Eventually the older man stopped stroking Jiyong’s bleach-blonde hair and removed his hand. He stuck one thumb in his mouth and pulled a face.

“Here,” he said, sober now. “You need to recoup before I take you home. And a little bit won’t do any harm.” He lowered his thumb to Jiyong’s lips. Jiyong examined the jewel of blood on the digit and tried to remember the movies he’d seen – not that you could trust twaddle like goddamn Twilight or the like for reliable dating advice.

“Is it gonna ‘turn’ me?” he asked. Seunghyun sniggered at him fondly.

“Not one little drop – you’d have to be chugging the stuff in pints. This’ll just pep you up: so you’ll be ready when you ask me out next time.”

“So confident,” chided Jiyong, drowsy but reassured. He took Seunghyun’s handsome hand in his own and sniffed: the blood smelled _nice_.

“It’s my five hundredth Halloween – at least I think so.” Seunghyun smiled at his expression. “And I’ve never spent the anniversary with a person who knows what I am. Pardon me if I’m feeling optimistic.”

Jiyong beamed at him, and in that moment felt wonderfully special; perhaps moving from the city to the sticks would be the making of him after all! Slowly and deliberately he set his lips to Seunghyun’s thumb; the taste was _heavenly_. Immediately he felt brighter, stronger, and when he met Seunghyun’s eyes he experienced another electric shock as some connection was forged, a line of understanding in the blood exchanged between them – he had never felt anything like it in his life, and with renewed passion he lifted his head to press an upside-down kiss to Seunghyun’s mouth.

“Tomorrow, then?” said Seunghyun, as eager as a schoolkid asking a girl to their first dance. “There’s a horror double bill on! I’m paying.” Jiyong smiled.

“Dinner after and you’re on.” Seunghyun gazed at him adoringly, and Jiyong found himself hoping Halloween would from now on be _his_ anniversary too.

[ ](https://i.imgur.com/iiZBdhT.png)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, happy Halloween to all! If you enjoyed it let me know :)  
(Back to my usual GTOP programming on Sunday!)


End file.
